


The Island of the Tailed Beasts

by SukiKyoshi



Category: Naruto
Genre: Background Relationships, The Last Uchihas, but this isn't about them, so many, that's a thing now, tons of background characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-21 12:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14915160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SukiKyoshi/pseuds/SukiKyoshi
Summary: Iruka is the sole caretaker of the tailed beasts, surviving on an island in the middle of an empty sea. The SS Icha Icha makes a pit-stop and a plan for escape is hatched.





	1. Shukaku

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aryagraceling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryagraceling/gifts).



> Killer Bee’s Infinite Tsukuyomi – Naruto Shippuden 429 is inspiration for the tailed beasts, follow the link below to see what they would look like in this story.
> 
> Heavily influenced by some really, really pretty pirate!Kakashi fanwork and the plot bunnies from Aryagraceling's brain :D.
> 
> https://i.imgur.com/dCcIRQA.jpg - tiny tailed beasts!  
> https://fire-daimyo.deviantart.com/art/NARUTO-COMPLETE-WORLD-MAP-625254407 - map for world building reference.

It was Shukaku who saw them first. High up the wooden perch that had been carefully built all those years ago he had been sat, crunching through his fifth coconut of the day, when his beady yellow eyes spied the mast of large ship on the northern horizon. The sails had been torn through to shreds and flapped in the breeze which told the beast more than he would have liked to know.  

With a shriek so shrill the wild birds on the island took off in ran the tiny sand demon through the bright tropical thicket that covered half the island, attracting his brother and sister that were out to come dashing in. Only Matatabe and Kurama followed him, a bright and electric blue cat chased by a dark red fox, while the rest streaked in from wherever they had been.Together they ran into a small clearing, darting up steps carved into the yellowed rocks to their home: a square but cozy hut made of cut branches, the inside containing nine little tunnels to nine little rooms for nine little tailed beasts (all in a row). 

Their commotion was easily heard by the man they called their keeper. He met them in the center as all nine came to a dusty halt, paused, forced to wait as they reshuffled themselves into numerical order. They were all barely larger than your fattest house cat, give or take their various extra legs, tails, or tentacles, and the fattest, Shikaku, weighed less than a baker's sack of flour. 

“I am Shukaku!” said, well, Shukaku, the first tailed beast, who somehow always had sand trailing behind him. He wheezed, completely not in shape. “And there is a pirate ship coming from the north! It looks like they plan to land here!” 

A chorus of gasps went down the line until they got to Kurama who hissed and snarled instead with the look of murder in his eyes. 

Iruka did not gasp. The news that had his murder beasts on edge now was good----maybe, potentially, hopefully. They had been marooned, in a sense, on this island hundreds of years ago, away from humans for their own safety and for the villages and towns. As part of the deal they always had a human come join them and Iruka had been the Land of Waves tribute, condemned to a life with no others except knee-high demons for company. When Iruka arrived he was barely ten, an orphan after a recent war, a child no one would miss. The beasts loved his stories about the newest cities and books, their last keeper barely cared to interact with them and thus they had lived the last 150 with no new news of the world. 

And now their prayers may be answered. Iruka loved his island, his beasts, they love him back but they know they aren't human contact and besides, they told him, they can  _ live inside him.  _ A perfect escape and then, later, they could be released somewhere safe where he could still watch over them but maybe find a lover, take a family, enjoy life. 

“What are we going to do?” whined Saiken, six tails dripping extra heavily with slime from the sudden stress. “Iruka-kun, please, we need to know!” 

Iruka chewed his lip, absently rubbing the scar that ran across his nose. It helped him think better. “Alright, everyone. Listen up. Shukaku---yes, no, I  _ know you're Shukaku stop that!--- _ will lead us back to the lookout point and I'm going to look. Kurama,  _ stop _ pouting and go fetch me that telescope, please! Everyone else, follow your brother!”

Getting to the tree perch didn't take long. Iruka scrambled up with Shukaku and Son Gokū, the latter their red-coated primate king and the only other one with opposable thumbs so he was tasked with carrying up the old sailor's spyglass. 

Snapping the brass and glass item out Iruka centered in on the pirate ship. It was maybe half a day away but very much on course for the island and very much a potential problem.

Climbing down Iruka dispatched the beasts with a plan: bring inside the cave anything they owned, clearing out trace that anyone inhabited the land and meet down on the far backside where a very shallow cave stood at the top, it's rounded back side faced north and looked dangerous, full of sharp angled rocks. The tailed beasts pooled their chakra together and made it so Intruders would be frightened away by a foreboding feeling that settled over their area. By human design Iruka had carved out a horizontal embrasure at the thinnest point in the rocks for a lookout; it provided him near perfect view of the white sand beach a half mile below. The beach itself stretched the whole northern half of the island, from eastern white cliff to western hard red rock, no more than mile wide; it ran two miles deep with a sharp cut of rock straight down the middle making the world's tiniest mountain range. The side they lived on was the south east, the flattest area big enough for Iruka’s vegetables and fruit trees. From above he imagined the island was shaped like a pear upside down, bottom north and stem south. 

The ship made anchor a few hours before nightfall, tiny boats taking people back and forth. Iruka watched many little figures dart around, setting up a camp right at the sands edge. A rather important looking man arrived on the beach before sunset, his white hair escaping a cloth tied around it, fluttering in the breeze only match his billowing white shirt. Iruka had a feeling the man's shapely black trousers looked good in person. Sailors saluted or bowed before going back to task when he walked by them. A pink haired woman with a too-loud blond woman at her side led him around, pointing things out, gesturing towards an area on the island he knew had fresh water. The captain, Iruka decided that's who he was, seemed disinterested with the update judging by his hunkered posture, giving off an air of indifference. Kokuō  raised his white porpoise-shaped head to watch with Iruka, eventually giving off a snort when he spied the captain.

“How  _ rude! _ ” he chuffed. Iruka smiled, Kokuō was the king of manners. He gave his four-legged-five-tailed friend a patch and a scritch behind one of his four ears before shoving him back out of the way. Kokuō found this rude as well but had long since learned Iruka didn’t care.

The sun was almost below the horizon when he saw the captain turn towards the jut of rock that Iruka and his group hid behind. With breath caught suspended on an inhale, Iruka’s eyes widened when he realized that the captain’s face was pointed at them and an eyepatch he had previously missed flipped up. In the fading light of the day the eye shown a blazing bright red. 

Iruka scrambled back from the rock to the other side of the cave, pushing himself up against it flat. No one moved in the cave for what felt like eons, not until the sun had fully dropped behind the sea and the moon rose high in the night sky.

There were two things Iruka know knew: that the captain may be the most beautiful man he has ever seen, and that the captain definitely saw him and he had no idea how. That glowing red eye unnerved Iruka and followed him in into his dreams.

 


	2. Matatabi

Morning came and, with it, nine demons who wanted breakfast. Iruka dispatched Isobu to the sea to bring them back fish, with Son to help. Kurama fed the fire and cooked the fish while Iruka used what little chakra he had to push the wind through the cave and out. In comparison to the powers that lay within his beasts Iruka’s ability was a parlor trick at best but it cycled the wind and kept their position well hidden.

They stayed there from sun up to sun down again, Iruka stealing glances through the embrazure when he so dared. The captain appeared and disappeared as the day went on. More stuff appeared on shore from the ship. By night time they had a full camp set up, with a man in bright green shirt and matching trousers manned what Iruka could only guess was their kitchen, going by the pots that he had stacked around some plank boards. Two fires burned almost consistently, though from what wood Iruka didn’t know. None of them had seen a tree cut down yet.

The third day was the same, and then the fourth began identical as well. Iruka and his beasts were bored, the men not looking like they planned to pack up anytime soon. He had had multiple conversations with them all about the prospect of leaving at, after some time where Isobu and Gyūki, his eight-tailed cow-octopus hybrid, relayed all they had learned after Iruka made them spend a few hours in the water listening to the men’s talk, decided maybe this would be it.

Gyūki had even climbed aboard the ship, albeit momentarily, to check around. Most of the people were at the shore already, those that were left behind seemed to be repairing things, otherwise everyone was having relaxing. This perplexed Iruka as much as it did the beasts. 

When the fourth night fell Iruka had Chōmei flit down on his seven little moth tails to the camp, now full of sleeping sailors, bringing back after a painfully long silence some faded brown trousers that he had seen the man in green tailoring earlier in the day. Iruka planned to go down there and, in his present state, knew that the appearance of a man in a short brown coconut-fiber skirt wouldn’t exactly give the impression he wanted.

After their routine breakfast of fish and watching the sun’s rays break the horizon, Iruka cleaned up their cave before leading the march down their little mountain to the beach. He waited patiently as they all lined up in order of Shukaku (“I’m Shukaku!” it screeched, as always, when getting into the line) to Kurama with the number nine, still bristling and angry. 

Halfway down the long way, which meant less falling on their faces but more time taken, the group paused to watch the laziest set of sailors wake up. The sun was already halfway overhead. From the trees, Iruka saw their captain speak with a few of his men and, Iruka was realizing, a few of the women, too. This ship was very mixed gender and highly unusual. (“What kind of pirates are these?” Matarabe growled when the beasts noticed the difference of sex on the beach.)

Iruka hushed his companion, eye on the captain who went through an usual set of hand shapes before very aggressively slamming his hand down into the sand. A puff of smoke went off and four, no, five? six? seven? eight! canines appeared. Each beast gasped, Matatabe’s fur went up like the feline she was. 

“Summons!” Son Gokū explained to a captive audience of beasts and man. “When we were still so young, Iruka-kun, man had contracts with all the beasts of the land and could call upon them as they saw fit. After many wars and many centuries those who could do this became more rare...”

“Tribes saw fit to kidnap them and use them, just like they did us,” chimed in Kokuō, shoving his head under Iruka’s arm for comfort, nuzzling for the head pats he eventually got. “There’s something not quite right about this group.”

Seven heads nodded, Kurama’s did not.

Reaching for the little fox, Iruka dragged him into his lap and forcibly stroked the seething hate-monster from his head to his nail tails. “Nothing good will come of this,” he snarled between content grumblings of a happy fox being loved on. “Men who summon do nasty things.”

Kurama once told him why he hated most men. In this moment all Iruka could do was coddle his friend and turn back to the beach.

The site on the sand had turned amusing. Their captain was pointing at the island proper and, judging by the motions, telling the dogs to go search for something. A small smashed-faced one stepped forward with his nose to the ground and started to sniff. Slowly the rest followed suit. None had gotten much further than where Chōmei had been a few nights before tucking tail and running back to the water’s edge, whimpering. Iruka smiled. The canines went in a puff of smoke, the smallest one left behind to talk to the captain. He too vanished after a moment of heated debate. 

Iruka watched the captain’s stance get angrier. He ran through those same weird hand signs again, slammed his fist to the sand again, and this time only the smushed face one appeared. Words were exchanged and he was gone again.

“The summons do not like Chōmei’s lucky chakra trails!” Chōmei’s wings buzzed with happiness when the last of the smoke disappeared. “The summons are smart!”


	3. Isobu

Noon had come and everyone on the beach was in a languid state. Hammocks had been strung between trees, sometimes four or five stacked on top of each other, with clothes drying on rocks and stumps. Their green chef/tailor bustled around the area that was squared off as his, wooden planks serving as counters, stacked on empty ration barrels, with two giant pots standing on the woodless fires. Closer up Iruka could see that the sails from their ship had been taken ashore and had a few of the crew working to patch it up with extra cloth pulled, he assumed, from the depths of the hold at some point when he wasn’t watching.

Iruka stepped out first from the treeline, a tight bundle of anxiety, waiting to see if he would be noticed. When he wasn’t, he motioned for the rest to come out, starting with Kurama, going down in numbers. This displeased Shukaku who, when it was his turn, ignored the hushed plans they had made only moments ago (in which Shukaku wouldn’t speak) and shouted in his highest pitched, most shrillest voice, “I AM SHUKAKU!”

Now they had everyone’s attention.

Shukaku’s brothers all pounced on him, a tangle of limbs and too-many tails, before Gyūki emerged victorious, four of his eight legs wrapped around his brother, gagging and wrapping the sand beast in place, bellowing when his brother bit him but not letting up. Matarabe hissed and took a swipe at Shukaku, which made Chōmei upset and Kukuo stamped his feet in protest of the fight. Kurama bristled more, Isobu tucked back into its shell, and Saiken nervously expelled acidic slime that ate through a few inches of sand. Son Gokū shook his head and picked up Isobu’s shell for safety. Iruka began yelling at Shukaku for not following the plans and at Kurama for, probably, trying to start something as usual. Their commotion drew a crowd and by the time he had settled the beasts down, with Gyūki still holding onto a gagged Shukaku, they had a crowd two-deep around them in a half circle, the only escape route behind them and back up a cliff.

Straightening his posture to look at the crowd gathered had turned Iruka a dark red. This was not how this was supposed to go. He looked at the group of strange men and women, mouth making the shapes for words but nothing coming out. Sounds of people peering at the beasts causing their captain to finally saunter over from where he had been laid out in a hammock the farthest away to inspect the situation.

“What’s this?” Iruka heard him ask, crowd parting to let the man through. Up close he was more impressive, and Iruka had been right, those pants did look better in person. The white billowing shirt still somehow moved in the still air, his white (silver? was he that old?) hair moving with it, an eyepatch covering the eye that had been so bright red. His other eye was grey, almost black, and captivated Iruka, rooting him to the spot, making him forget his words.

A minute passed, then two. No one moved shaved for the muffled noises of Shukaku squawking about the indecency of binding up a tailed beast. 

Clearing his throat, the white-haired captain asked again, “I said, _what’s this?_ ” a hopeful opening to a very perplexing situation. When neither beast nor native islander spoke, he tried again. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Oh, yes,” Iruka breathed, mouth turning up in a wide smile. He was so very different looking from this group of pale sailors, even in the stolen trousers of another. Where the men were thin and pale Iruka was broad and tanned from years of running around an island in the sun. They all had short hair, or hair tried back by a broad strip of cloth with writing on their forehead in a language Iruka didn’t recognize. All of them wore that, he noticed, even the women, which meant that must be the name of their ship. None of them looked like Iruka, not even remotely. A piece of his heart sighed, knowing no one would be from his village, not that he cared anyway.

“Is this your island?” The captain asked, sizing Iruka up. Iruka felt everyone’s eyes on him but he felt the captain’s stare more. His skin sung, nerves hummed with an electric feeling. 

“No,” Iruka shook his head, “it’s their island,” he said, sweeping his head down to gesture at the tailed beasts. Gyūki tightened his gag on Shukaku, forcing the exclamation I AM SHUKAKU! to be no more than shrill grunts. “You’re on the Island of the Tailed Beasts.”

Nary a sailor spoke, their captain turning to look for someone specifically. A young man, no more than Iruka’s age probably, pushed forward from the back with a bored expression on his face. The same cloth adorned his forehead and his hair was kept swept back. “Eh, well, that’s kind of impossible, see, the tailed beasts are a myth---”

Nothing could stop Shukaku now.

The sand demon became enraged, puffing up twice his size and forcing Gyūki’s tentacles to let go. With an unparalleled rage he exhaled, _“I AM SHUKAKU AND I AM NOT A MYTH YOU STUPID HUMAN!”_

Every demon and Iruka slapped their hand, paw, flipper, tentacle or hoof to their face. The man who had been speaking looked very, very confused. “I-I’m sorry, you’re wh---”

Iruka dashed forward, slapping a hand across the man’s mouth, silencing him. “Don’t. Ask. Who. He. Is.” He removed his hand once he could see the other understood and Iruka stepped back to the beasts, Shukaku seething, sand mixed with spittle. “Shukaku apologizes,” Iruka said, using his foot to shove the beast behind the others, accepting the claws he got to the ankle as punishment for hushing the mighty Shukaku. 

“We are the Tailed Beasts,” Son Gokū puffed up, the red brilliance of his coat catching the light, accentuating the green of his horns. “We are not myth. We are imprisoned on this island because of man.”

“Our master never wanted us to be weapons so he gave us our island. He gave us our Iruka,” Saiken made his way sluggishly from the back to stand next to Son, drawing up his squishy body and waving his tentacle arms. “Iruka doesn’t use us for weapons!”

“Man tried to use us for weapons,” Isobu squeaked, poking his little face out of his shell, the tiny barb tentacles around his face moving excitedly. Iruka once told him his face looked like a sea anemone and he wasn’t wrong. “Man didn’t like us so they made us live here.”

“And how long is here?” the captain asked, wearing the same look as his sailors: confusion, a touch of excitement, a huge dash of curiosity. When he glanced back up at Iruka, Iruka felt his heart fall through his chest and land with a splat at his feet, tongue tied into knots.

“Oh, well, for me? I’ve, oh, it’s been almost, ah, thirteen? years, however the beasts... it’s been a few hundred.” Each beast nodded, from one to nine, backing up their caretaker’s words. A silence fell on the crowd as everyone looked at each other then back at the beasts, brains in overdrive at trying to contemplate the knee-high monsters being hundreds of years ago, the oldest few recalling the stories their grandparents passed down to them when they were naught but a tiny tot about the nine fantastic beasts that the Sage had once owned before they vanished from the lands they called home. “I’m their, well, I’m Iruka, and, yes, Saiken is right, I’m their caretaker, but it’s a very long story...”

Iruka would love to tell the captain that story, if he could. He would like to do a lot of things. Iruka felt flares of emotion that were wholly new and unsual for him. Then again, thirteen years on an island, going through puberty with only a bunch of man-hating tailed beasts to help you grow, and well, Iruka had a lot of questions. 

Remembering manners, the captain blushed before swinging into a deep bow. “My apologies, Iruka. I’m the captain of this group, Kakashi.” With flourish, he stood back up to swing his arms wide to show off the beach, their settlement. His men and women came out of their reverie and began moving around again, suddenly aware that they had jobs to be doing. “Let me apologize then, your, ah,” the captain paused while his informant from earlier whispered in his ear, “your honorables, for our incursion. May I offer you something to eat?”

And if on cue, the green suited man that had been mysteriously gone from the crowd appeared, landing before them with a flourish of arms and sparkles. “PLEASE! If you will follow me to our humble kitchen I will share with you our feast!”

Kokuō mouthed at Iruka’s trouser leg, making him squat. “I like them! They have manners!”

As Iruka was whisked away he looked over his shoulder at the captain, oh captain. Their eyes met and Kakashi winked, leaving Iruka a mush of man as he was taken away.


	4. Son Gokū

The ship was called the Icha Icha, as Iruka found out when the green besuited man---Guy---- showed them to his station, and they were a group of pirates from the Land of Fire. Less than ten years ago a man named Danzo had taken over their village and found resistance in it’s people over his leadership. He had planned to slaughter half the village’s occupants, the ones who could still summon beasts that their families had contracts with, the ones who had any type of kekkei genkai, or were in anyway not an average person, and all that were not loyal to him. Danzo would have gotten almost half the entire village to be murdered in that night if it hadn’t been for the people who would go on to undermine his organization. 

Under moonlight, Kakashi had arranged with the former elders of the village to get everyone out and to safety.

They rescued their previous leader, a demanding woman named Tsunade, from where she was held hostage. With her, Guy said, they went on to liberate their friends and family, using a set of old tunnels through the mountains to come out the other side. They left Konoha to get to the Land of Steam and eventually to the Land of Lightning. 

In the group of wayward shinobi---they were all ninjas before they were sailors---was the sole mokuton user known to man, a prized possession of Danzo’s that Kakashi stole from him. Tenzo would be the reason they had boats at all. He could craft them from nothing, one of the remaining few who still had kekkei genkai. 

When Iruka asked what those were, he was given a confused smile. Guy stumbled over his words trying to explain it when their captain appeared for the first time since earlier, politely asking Kokuō if he could sit next to Iruka at the table, squishing himself onto the skinny bench (another plank, supported by two stumps) between everyone. The beasts grumbled but Kukuō loved the manners and told them to quiet.

“Tsunade,” Captain Kakashi backed the conversation up to where Guy should have left off, “bankrolled our operation. She’s a terrible gambler but her partner is really shrewd with money and they have great connections. We took everyone in the dead of night. A few of our people tricked the village into believing it was a stormy night so we could get away. When Danzo woke up we’re told he went on a rampage and burned all the empty homes to the ground so we had nothing to come back to. Tenzo,” Kakashi tipped his head towards Guy, “is very special, one of a kind. He’s been my friend for as long as he can remember and I didn’t ‘steal’ him so much as make a much better offer. Danzo would have kept him locked up as a weapon and we were wanted men on land.”

“Men are terrible,” grumbled Kurama from where he had been listening at the end of the bench. 

“Kurama...” warned Gyūki, next to him.

“He’s right, men are terrible,” Captain Kakashi looked down the line at the fox and nodded his agreement. “That’s why we’re pirates now. Well, good pirates, we’re mostly just keeping the seas safe and looking for another of our vessels that got lost years ago in a storm.”

“Oh...” Iruka realized he couldn’t break his stare from the captain’s beautiful face. No matter what happened now he’ll always remember that long and straight nose, the perfect pink lips and the tiniest beauty mark just off to the left of his chin. A man this beautiful should be illegal and forced to cover up. “That must be terrible.”

Captain Kakashi shrugged, pausing to compliment Guy on another well done bowl of coconut root soup. Iruka wasn’t sure if that was an insult or not as he wasn’t entirely sure if the food he was trying to eat should be eaten. “It’s been okay, we were doing well until we were caught in a squall and then found ourselves with little wind and torn sails. Somehow we ended up here.”

“The old man made sure the island had little wind,” offered Isobu who had given his soup to Son and instead chewed on the coconut bowl itself, “no ships can usually find us. It’s strange you did.”

“Ah! Well, you see, we have some tricks up our sleeves to handle that but without sails we were pretty lost.”

“You’re not lost now,” Iruka found his voice and touched Captain Kakashi’s arm. He was surprised to feel how warm and alive the other was. The touch of another human had been far too long ago for him. Iruka traced a line over the captain’s arm, marveling at how soft it was when any other sea-worn man would have felt like leather and stone. When the captain cleared his throat it broke Iruka of his reverie, snapping him back to attention, cheeks and scar turning red. “What I mean is is you’re somewhere south of Land of Wind. We don’t exist on any map that you would have, and Isobu’s right, the island is protected in a sense from outsiders. You shouldn’t be here but you are.”

There was little mistake to the smile Kakashi flashed, eye crinkling up in a perfect crescent shape. “Yes, we’re here.” Kakashi paused for a beat, remembering the question he had walked in on. “Kekkei Genkei is a bloodline limit, traits that run through clans. Ah, they use a combination of chakra and skill to do, or make, things others can’t. Tenzo has mokuton. I know of a ship full of kekkei genkai users that have something called a sharingan, it’s an eye that only their clan have,” Kakashi gave the green chef A Look that made him close his mouth and walk off, “and can do some terrible things. They call themselves The Last Uchiha...”

“The Last Uchiha?” asked Son. Kurama bristled on the end of the bench. He knew these words.

“The Last Uchiha. It’s a very complicated mess but Danzo had their entire clan slaughtered except for four brothers. They came with us and took off on their own, planning to rebuild their clan.” Kakashi hadn’t seen any of the Uchiha’s in years. Many wondered if they still lived. He touched the patch over his left eye briefly before recognizing what he was doing and dropped his hand back to his lap. Something about the fox at the end of the bench made him feel a little more cautious than he normally would be, a dark nagging feeling dug at the memories in his head while he slurped up the coconut soup. 

Iruka held up a hand, shaking his head and chuckling. “Hang on. There’s a boat... of brothers, who all have special eye powers, who plan to repopulate their clan.”

“Yes. That’s their plan.”

“Is this ship full of men?”

Kakashi twisted to look down at Iruka, head cocked. “It would be, why?”

“Someone should tell them that’s not how you make babies,” Iruka’s eyes crinkled up and he laughed at his terrible joke. The laugh was infectious, Kakashi catching on and chuckled himself. 

“Well if you ever meet them then I’ll leave the educational sermons up to you.”


	5. Kokuō

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka didn't know what a fuck was, or how to give it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end goes a little above PG and into the PG-13 land.

Sitting with nine supposedly mythical (all terribly real) creatures and the captain garnered the group a significant amount of attention, beyond the general curiosity of there being another  _ human _ that just popped up on the island they had crashed. Iruka found himself slightly overwhelmed and only breathed relief when, after a bit, people stopped wandering near them and kept a decent distance. He would pretend he never saw the look the captain began giving his crew after he had quietly remarked that there was so many of them, blaming all the constant and new interaction for Saiken’s over-excitement and acidic slime having eaten away at the seat under the slug when really Iruka never realized that being thrust into human interaction so swiftly would make his head swim. 

As the afternoon went on and the sun warmer, Iruka and Kakashi traded questions under the canopy of palms and ferns. In doing so he learned that this particular ship had been out to see for almost a year, landing in ports as needed, but the crew as a whole had been together for seven years on water, even longer on land, and they called each other family. Occasionally new crew members were picked up and added but, as Kakashi shared, everyone on this ship had something very specific they could do and thus made them a much more effective set of terribly kind-hearted pirates.

Kakashi had been captain for majority of that time, almost by default, but preferred to make his right hand. The symbol on all of their foreheads was a henohenomoheji ( へのへのもへじ) and that it had originally started as a joke but then really became part of their identity. 

In return, Iruka told him the story of how he came to be on the island, at least what little details he could remember. There had been a war, there was  _ always _ a war, though this one had claimed his parents, leaving him in the care of a village elder who went through a list of orphans and offered up Iruka without his say, setting him off on the journey that would eventually lead him here. If someone had asked him about the whole deal behind it, well, Iruka was clueless. Information never shared with him, and besides, he wasn’t even  _ from _ Land of Waves, Iruka’s parents were from a smaller nation called the Land of Islands, and somehow ended up in Waves, so if the agreement had been ‘find and send a natural born citizen of your nation’ then they messed up. 

Eventually the sun was hovering on the horizon, threatening to go down. The little demons all found their way back to Iruka, who still hadn’t moved from where he had been sitting and talking all day.

Nine little mouths all started talking at once, making Iruka whistle loudly, everyone with the ability to hear stopped in their tracks, frozen. That was a very loud and demanding noise. The beasts turned to Iruka, the crew to Kakashi, who dismissively waved them back to duty. 

“I think they want to go to bed,” Kakashi said as he tentatively reached out to touch the top of Isobu’s shell. Isubo shivered, tilting into the touch just a bit more than would have been dignified for a creature such as himself. 

“You’re not wrong. Ah, captain?” Iruka rubbed at his scar, feeling the burn of nine pairs of eyes on him, all telling him various things.

Shukaku looked content.

Matatabi was purring.

Isobu was, well, a little  _ too _ into his pets.

Son had stolen someone’s headband thing and wore it himself.

Kokuō beamed.

Saiken drooled pink, non-acidic sludge and wiggled his tails.

Chōmei’s hadn’t stopped being excited.

Gyūki had been stuck to the side of a rowboat all day and he had enjoyed it.

Kurama looked, well, tired, and a lot less like his usual hateful self.

“It’s Kakashi.”

“Kakashi.”

“Yes, Iruka?”

“How long do you think you’ll be staying? It’s been four days already, surely there are places you have to be, or ships full of wealthy people to rob.”  He tried to laugh at his poor joke but it didn’t come, making Iruka look anywhere but at the person next to him, twirling his finger through the sand to serve as a distraction instead.

“Mmm, now that’s a good question,” Isobu was pushing himself closer to Kakashi’s hand, pressing in, making him pause. “How long should we stay?” 

For once Iruka had wished Shukaku would rudely butt in, but he didn’t. He just kept his beady yellow eyes glued to Iruka’s face. 

The tailed beasts had decided the men weren’t a threat. When Isobu had raised concern that the men may try and capture them again, Captain Kakashi had squatted down to the water creature’s level and assured him that should any of those in his command treat them badly then he would let Kurama have his way---which  _ thrilled _ Kurama and for the moment he stopped snarling and growling, running off to cause havoc in the kitchen with Gyūki and Shukaku.

Iruka heaved a sigh that carried the weight of a five thousand days with it. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, but on one condition.”

Isobu’s pets stopped and he grunted. Kakashi had turned to give Iruka his full attention, straightening up into a much taller, more impressive figure to look very much more like the captain of a ship should. He nodded, motioned for Iruka to lay out his terms.

“We get to go with you.” Nine sets of eyes looked at Iruka. Ten sets of eyes turned to stare at Kakashi, with a few too many tails wagging. Really, it’s as if the demons turned into household  _ pets _ .

Shukaku finally opened his mouth: “ _ I AM SHUKAKU! _ ” 

Iruka groaned, a little too late on the interruption there, Shukaku. “And that does, unfortunately, include the  _ great _ Shukaku,” a very heavy and sarcastic infection was used, making the demon in question narrow his eyes but it kept his mouth shut. 

Without needing to give his response much thought, Kakashi nodded. Shikamaru was going to have a wonderful time figuring out the logistics of this one.

Now that freedom was just within grasp, Iruka politely excused himself and his wards, retreating into the island interior to walk their way home. Conversation between the beasts became a white noise for Iruka, barely tuning in, thoughts elsewhere.

 

Sleeping that night was a joke. Iruka found he was too restless, too full of  _ something _ to sleep. He would find that sleep would become difficult to chase the next night, and the night after that. 

The first day after the agreement had been made for them to take passage, he and the beasts decided that they would try to get to know the crew of the  _ Icha Icha _ and showed up just before midday. Iruka offered to help with anything they needed, which the crew appreciated and almost asked for help with fishing when Kakashi intervened and stole Iruka away. Isobu and Gyūki helped instead.

The third time he had done that in as many days, the crew started to really try and get Iruka to help them, almost begging Kakashi with sadden, tear-heavy eyes, a dramatic scene unfolding with a backdrop of partially repaired sails. Their clear acting still made Iruka feel weird in his skin, only exhaling when Kakashi still led him away by his elbow. 

Someone groaned and another shouted loudly, “you’re fucked, Hatake!” at their back. Iruka didn’t know what a fuck was, or how to give them. Laughter echoed the shout. The pressure on Iruka’s elbow grew a little tighter and he felt himself being pulled at a pace that betrayed the pink flush on the captain’s cheeks.

For his part Iruka listened as Kakashi told him stories of their travels at sea, funny anecdotes peppered in with more tragic stories. When the talking died down they would sit in a comfortable silence. More often than not Iruka would pretend to nap while laying under Kakashi’s hammock, the other swinging silently above him. He would wait until the swinging stopped and he saw the captain lean down to look at him before slowly opening his eyes to lock on with the other’s, playing a game of chicken to see who would look away first. 

 

A small storm rolled through one morning and lasted until the following afternoon. Half the ship’s crew went back aboard to wait it out with their captain, the others stayed ashore. Iruka helped them seek shelter in the monstrosity that was the island’s cave system. All the entries laid on the west side and were dangerous to explore alone so Saiken and Matatabi led the sailors through safely and even stayed through the night.

Iruka was a little disheartened to see that the captain wasn’t among those staying on the island or he would have offered up the safety of his own hut to him. With all their time spent nearly tied to each other, the sudden loss of was jarring. Even having less beasts with him was an unusual feeling, one which he decided he very much did not like. A nervous blue fire took up residence in Iruka’s stomach, replacing the hot red sparks he normally felt around the captain. Even Chōmei’s happy clicking and twittering didn’t ease his ache. 

Lightning rolled through the clouds, dropping rain from heavy grey clouds in patches. The beasts all retreated to their individual caves, as they always did when there was a storm like this, leaving him to drag his mattress to what served as the front door. Storms were rare this time of year and Iruka laid out just inside the opening to watch the sky dance with color. 

A streak of lightning broke through the clouds, illuminating the world. Where the densest trees stood packed together the lone figure of one ship’s captain, silver hair and shirt billowing around him. Time stood still, the storm howled it’s warning before casting a darkness over them once again. The sky let them know it’s anger though, a fork of electricity the churning ocean, giving Iruka just enough light to see that the figure was gone.

Had he imagined it? 

Could he have dreamed that?

Iruka was very much awake now, the pain from the pinch he gave his arm was very much there. There were no ghosts on this island, at least none that looked like  _ him _ . A wild flutter grew in his chest, blood pumping through his veins with such intense, burning heat that Iruka briefly wondered if he was feverish. 

His thoughts went back to all he could recall of the love his parents shared, trying and failing to think of something much calmer. There were things he knew, like what men and women did behind doors, or how babies were made. A lot of the rest, the hundreds of questions Iruka had about so many feelings, the beasts couldn’t answer, or wouldn’t. He had no real material to conjure up in his head before now to help with any sort of sexual release.

Now, though.

Kakashi’s face, his voice, commandeered Iruka’s senses. A terrible pirate indeed, making a poor little island boy like himself swoon at his feet. His thoughts turned to thinking of what life might be like aboard the  _ Icha Icha _ , what it would be like to be so much closer to the other.

Laying back, eyes shut, he ran his fingers up and down his own side, imagining that they belonged to Kakashi, pale and calloused and warm, so warm. Ghosting across his chest, making Iruka’s breath catch in his throat when he unintentionally scratched a nail across a nipple, the curl in his toes new. Iruka tried it again, tipping his head back with a gasp. 

He thought about what it would feel like if those fingers like if they were the ones dragging down those trousers instead, helping him kick them off into the darkness. Maybe he would use two hands, like Iruka was now, one to tug and pull on a nipple, maybe.

Maybe the other would wrap around his penis, no,  _ cock _ . The world felt as filthy as Iruka did.

Lightning flashed again, Iruka looking down to see his own hand, twisting around the base of his shaft. In the white light they looked foreign, not like his own darker, tanner hands. They looked pale and long, the illusion keeping that they weren’t  _ his _ . 

Iruka groaned and bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut again to just  _ imagine _ , to picture Kakashi’s hand pumping him up and down. His thumb and forefinger rolling back that extra bit of skin, exposing the tip to the cold night air. Iruka shivered, gooseflesh rippling over his skin. His cock gave a jump in his hand, remembering how warm and tantalizing the captain always seemed to look.

He switched hands, no,  _ Kakashi _ switched hands, and he jumped when he felt the coolness of his own palm grasp himself again. Iruka’s brain swam in fuzz, skin zapping, sinking into the dream a little further.

It would be Kakashi’s hand pumping his cock so quickly, then slow down to drag the whine from Iruka’s lips, releasing the sound into the night air. It would be Kakashi’s hand, his warm and broad palm, dragging through the sticky fluid at the head, slicking him up, getting less friction and more pleasure with each stroke.

It would be Kakashi’s hand abandoning his now too-sensitive nipples to cradle the sensitive sac, thumb rubbing harshly along the tense vein, pressing a finger against that tight circle of nerves, threatening to press in until he was a knuckle deep. He would hear Kakashi’s voice telling him to let go as the hot heat of want and desire spread from his cock outwards, radiating through him like the lightning outside. 

It would be Kakashi’s name that Iruka would call out into the night when he found his release, seeing a flash of white behind his eyelids before the world would go a soft black.

 

Iruka’s body went lax, chest heaving as he found the desire to sleep tug at the edges of his brain. A small smile grew on Iruka’s face at feeling this utterly new sense of delicious  _ goodness _ settled into his veins and made his limbs heavy, drawing a blanket of sleep over him that Iruka happily succumbed to.

In the back of his mind, as he fought off sleep, Iruka recounted the figure in the flash of light, how he could see Kakashi’s face. A look of hunger, no,  _ desire _ , Iruka decided, had been written across the captain’s face and he felt a stirring of need flash through his body again before the night could claim him.

 


	6. Saiken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WELCOME ABOARD THE S.S. ICHA ICHA, NOW AT SEA and totally full of people who are highly aware their captain needs to get some virginal native booty.

Another week passed before they were ready to take off again. Iruka only saw Kakashi a handful of times during that week, the captain busy helping get the ship ready to go. They went about it lazily, of course, something Iruka was suspecting to be a common theme for this pirate crew. Eventually it was Shikamaru who found Iruka and told him that they were taking off, asking if Iruka needed help bringing anything aboard, not that he had much to begin with. Beyond a few of the younger fruit trees and the hand telescope there wasn’t much Iruka wanted to take to begin with. Most everything the island had provided, and what it hadn’t had been there to begin with. Iruka had read the same set of books, a bunch of religious texts and the unabridged history of the former daimyo of the Oil Kingdom, a not so surprisingly dull account of a man’s history of almost nothing.

 That very last night Iruka slept out under the stars with his demons, letting them retell the stories of the goddess who lived on the moon to Iruka one last time. Laying out on ground still warm from the summer’s day reminded Iruka of the first night he had landed on the island, ten years old and terrified of what the rest of his life was going to be like. As a child he had lost so much. As an adult, the world was tearing at the walls and yanking them down, throwing him back into the world he had left.

 Iruka wasn’t scared this time. He was ready to take the world back in his hands and see all that he had missed.

 “Tomorrow,” Iruka reminded his demons as sleep wrapped her warm, tender fingers around his arms and threatened to pull him below into her dark waters, “we start a new life.”

 

Surprise was written on Iruka’s face when he saw that everyone was already up, awake, and boat being loaded, all before he and the demons had woken up and eaten their last meal of fish together in a peaceful silence. Two row boats waited on the shore for Iruka and demons, all who gleefully loaded up, save the octo-bull and the sea turtle, both swam ahead blissfully, climbing aboard before their companions were halfway across the water.

Shikamaru was the first to find all ten of them, reintroducing himself with his proper title ("Nara Shikamaru, First Mate, Substitute Captain, Actual Genius") before leading the group on a quick and abbreviated tour of the ship, with promises that a more indepth tour will happen later, but for now this was enough. They were shown to their quarters and, when Iruka recognized that this was most likely in all truth’s the captains quarters, Shikamaru laughed. Iruka’s eyes narrowed and he looked at the other man. Shikamaru shook his head, throwing his palms up. “Did he tell you _nothing?_ ” he asked, astonished, then seemed to know the answer already, posture turning to a slouch, head shaking. “We’re a small ship, there’s not too many places you guys,” a thumb towards Son, who was already exploring the top drawer of a very large, very ornately carved desk that stuck out in the middle of the room, “could easily fit without, I don’t know, stepping on each other, so we decided for Captain Slow-ass that you would share his quarters. Don’t worry, he doesn’t snore.” Shikamaru winked, leaving Iruka to stare at his retreating back.

Someone had left a few sets of clothes, with more loose fitting shirts than Iruka would ever want to wear, and some boots that Iruka passed on. He had run around barefoot for the better half of his life, the shoes felt cramped and cold, squishing his toes uncomfortably together.

 The ship shook, voices shouted words he couldn’t quite make out above, and suddenly their whole world was in motion. An excitable wind picked up outside, puffing their sails up and pushing them back north, in the same direction the ship had come from. Iruka watched his island retreat from the windows that lined the back of the quarters. Each beast lined up with him, from Shukaku to Kurama. No one shed a tear or even a sad sigh. Ten little hearts felt full of freedom and independence, watched the land that shackled them for centuries slowly fade away.

 Iruka stayed with them in the cabin, everyone mostly silent as they listened to the activity that bustled around, deciding to stay out of harm’s way until called upon.

 Guy’s dinner bell rang deep and clear across the ship, a stampede of people thundering from all over to cram themselves into the galley, Iruka at the back, nervous and unsure where to go, where to sit, standing hesitantly at the doorway. Two long tables were already full with the crew members, minus whoever had to stay up top to keep an eye out. Plates and bowls were piled with something that looked like fish and roots, chunks of bread were being handed around. Iruka noticed with a hint of annoyance that all the beasts had found somewhere to sit, leaving the only opening left was directly in front of the captain.

 Iruka’s stomach twisted.

 This was a set up. By whom, he did not know, as there was not a possibility that the _only_ seat left was strategically placed in front of the only person who’s ever occupied Iruka’s thoughts and dreams, and by gods he would _kill_ whichever demonic creature or human had staged this. All eyes were on him except the only eyes he would have preferred to be on him were fixated on a much worn out book with a faded orange cover. Iruka held back the flush that dared rise in his cheeks, snagging Kurama from where he was sniffing the ground for crumbs, crushing him into Iruka’s lap when he took his seat.

A plate of fish was pushed in front of him, a fork pressed into his hand, someone shared their flagon of water, Kurama clawed to get free, and all Kakashi did was read. Some point during the meal the captain slipped away without Iruka noticing, leaving him confused and sad and a little more than just annoyed, amplifying just how new and foreign all this was. Someone noticed and grabbed Iruka’s attention, distracting him with a story about a storm and a squid. Later, as he saw the sun going down through the porthole, someone shoved Iruka out the door, led him up topside, and pulled him down to sit on mess of blankets that covered the triangle of space at the bow. More sailors joined them until the area was jammed and his shoulders were caught in between two women.

 “Anko,” said the one on his right, the one who had led him from the galley and up. Iruka remembered her now. Loud, with the snake painted on her arm, swords that hung from her sides. Those were gone now, making her look less deadly. “It’s your first night at sea with us so we’re gonna break you in like we do _all_ newbies. I hope you like stories,” she winked, Iruka nodded, “and I hope you like very, very sour wine.”

 Turns out, Iruka did not like very, very sour wine, nearly choking on the swill when he was passed a wooden cup. The person next to him, not Anko, no, the pink haired medic, _Sakura_ like the flower, hit his back with a force that knocked the wine and breath out of him.

 No one laughed, a large boulder of a man rippling with scars yelled at Anko for her stupidity and took up the open space at the bow, back pressed into the groove. Ibiki, who according to Anko, “only looked that scary out here, in bed he’s a _total_ pushover.”

 Iruka choked on air and Sakura hit him again.

 Much like the time he spent with Kakashi on the island, Iruka ended up trading questions and stories with the crew until the sky had turned black and the moon cast her light on them. Someone started a fire in a earthen bowl that Iruka _knew_ had not been there before, nor did the amount of wood thrown in make any sense for how bright and warm the blaze burned. Briefly he wondered if this was one of those things that Kakashi had told him his crew could do, weird things with chakra and flapping their hands around that Iruka still did not fully understand. Iruka could do something with chakra and it didn’t involve waving his hands around like a maniac and slapping the ground.

 Ibiki was sharing a particularly gruesome story about an interrogation involving a man who looked like a snake and a very pointy interrogation weapon when it dawned on Iruka that their captain was missing, had been missing this whole time. Someone with sleepy eyes and a general ill pallor---Hayate? he wasn’t sure---caught Iruka’s eye and pointed up. The gangly legs of a man hung out the top of the ship’s foremost crow’s nest. There were three, one on each post. Son had taken up residency in the middle one, the captain preferred the first one, and a tiny head of a man stuck out of the third one by the ship’s wheel.

 Iruka pulled himself up, stepping over an arm or a leg to stand directly under the crow’s nest. Ibiki paused his story, all eyes following Iruka’s line of sight up into the night sky. Snickers broke out amongst a select few, with Hayate being the one to speak up.

 “He won’t sit down here with us,” he explained with a heavy sigh, words sounding like they pained him to say. “It’s got nothin’ to do with you, it’s just how he is.”

 “Are you---really? I find that unacceptable! Ooh, this is the first night---I’ve never been on a, well, this is just---!” Iruka folded his arms across his chest, taking in deep, measured breaths. This was his first actual trip on a pirate ship! Iruka was feeling a little more than slighted at this point, had _all_ that time they had spent talking on his island mean _nothing_? Iruka would have reconsidered even getting on this blasted thing if he had known that he would be ignored so much.

 “This is going to be loud,” said Shukaku, crawling under a blanket. One by one the other beasts found a way to hide their ears and eyes, behavior so unusual that the deck was silent, all eyes on the scene promising to unfold.

 “ _CAPTAIN KAKASHI!_ ” Iruka bellowed, sweeping around him to twist his words up and out into the night sky, full of something dark and terrorizing, a promise of something more dangerous underneath if his demand was not met. The crew froze, fear driving icicles into their bodies, pinned in place.

 From above, a foot wiggled. _Yes?_ it seemed to ask.

 “You’re, ooh! How _dare_ you wiggle your foot at me, sir, when I am trying to speak to you!”

 (Kokuō snorted from behind some blankets, “ _I taught him his manners so well!_ ”)

 The foot wiggled and a hand appeared, waving that orange book. Fire raged within Iruka, fueling him onwards as he grasped the poor excuse of a rope ladder and climbed up fearlessly.

 Twenty feet below their audience sat riveted as their newest companion reached into the crow’s nest, and after what looked to be a brief struggle, watched the orange book fall and get caught by a diving Anko.

 Even more amazing was the next sight: Iruka had his hands fisted in their captain’s shirt, pulling him out his hiding spot, dragging him down the ladder to sit and unceremoniously pulling him down to the deck _and kept him there_.

 Ibiki continued his story, Iruka’s hand stayed fisted in the loose fabric of Kakashi’s ridiculously large white shirt. Demons came back out, found new laps to sit in, and the very, very sour wine was passed around again.

 “Iruka,” someone called for his attention, Yugao? She had squished herself next to Hayate, which Iruka found interesting, had watched them out of the corner of his eye since he had noticed their attention often shifted to each other. When she saw she had his attention, Yugao asked, “you’ve been marooned on an island with no other people. Come on, you _have_ to have questions, right?”

 “ _Well_ ,” Iruka rubbed the back of his neck and briefly chanced a glance at the man next to him, “ah, most of them I’ve already asked,” someone near him snorted, “but you know, sure, I’m certain there’s stuff I know nothing about.”

 “Can we ask you questions?” Yugao looked hopeful, Iruka didn’t want to say no, nodding his consent.

 “Only five though, please.”

 Anko’s hand shot up, Ibiki pushed it back down. The one with the needle in his mouth, Genma, asked first, waving his hand at Anko. “We’ve all been wondering, well, most of us since we heard you joke about the Uchiha’s not knowing how life works. Who taught you?”

 Isobu poked his head out of his shell, smiling. Iruka pointed at Isobu. “He did, sort of. Mmm, I think I know how these questions are going to go. I know the general idea of how it all, you know, how _sex_ works, I suppose, I’ve had what someone’s since explained to me a very watered down version of how those things work, but it’s a little odd having having a turtle who doesn’t---Isobu, don’t you hide---have a---no, Isobu, I’m not making fun of you---have a penis to explain, _gods_ , how that all... works,” he waved his hand dismissively at his own crotch.

 “Who gave you the correct version...?” asked Ino, peeking around Sakura to stare intently with eyes full of interest, flicking from Iruka to the captain then back to Iruka, who by now had turned a dark red, barely noticed under the moonlight he hoped. “ _Oh_ ,” she smiled with mirth at the captain, who until now hadn’t moved.

 Kakashi shuffled uncomfortably, tucking his head down to his chest. “Someone had to,” he said to no one in particular, jumping in his skin when Iruka poked Kakashi’s thigh with his finger, looking up through silver fringe to catch the smile that tugged at Iruka’s lips. He hummed and tipped back into the other.

 “Next question? Ah, you’re...”

 “Kiba.” A skinny boy with bright red streaks down his cheeks and a feral look to his eye waved, his smile betraying whatever devious comment was brewing.

 “Right. Kiba.”

 “Where did you poop?”  Kiba’s question got a few laughs.

 “There was a, I don’t know, sort of cave with a hole in the bottom that dropped out over the ocean, so there. Where do _you_ defecate?”

 Kiba howled with laughter and pointed at the bow of the ship. “Over there.”

 Everyone groaned and no one let Kiba speak again for the night.

 Asuma asked the third question. By now Iruka had figured out that the red-eyed woman who sat next to him was Kurenai, and although no one said it, they were very much together. The first time Iruka saw Asuma he was dwarfed by how large the man was, almost afraid, until he saw the tenderness that wrapped itself around everything Asuma did. Saiken had too, he was wobbling next to the other man. “Is this weird? We just showed up, took over your island, and now you’re on a ship with some terrible pirates. You look, well,” he tipped his head to Kurenai, who gave him a small nod of encouragement. “You seem to be adjusting really well to having so many people around you suddenly.”

 This was a question he had been thinking on for awhile. “It’s not, hmm, it’s really actually terrifying, if I can be completely honest, but you’ve all...” Iruka paused to really take in the crowd that gathered. A small but powerful group, he had decided, who had trusted their captain to make the right choice and welcomed Iruka like he was one of their own. Sure it had taken time, and he still didn’t know half their names, but the ship felt like a home to him. “You’ve all reminded me what a home could feel like, so thank you,” Iruka all but whispered that last part, tucking his chin to his chest, holding back the sting of salty tears. Next to him he felt Sakura’s hand touch his shoulder, then Ino wrapped around to touch his back too.

 A heavier hand touched the small of his back, warm and comforting, a stolen touch to let Iruka know he was there.

 “All right! Two more!” Anko clapped loudly, breaking the moment on the bow. “If I can’t ask it, then _someone_ has to!” she cried, watching as the full grown men all melted away from her.

 “Anko,” Iruka reached out to tug on her pant leg, “I will let you have the final question if you please, please, bring your voice down.”

 Anko smiled, crawling back into Ibiki’s lap, radiating with what Iruka hoped was excitement, and not something sharp and devious like her expression was telling him.

 The little pirate in green jumped in his seat until someone much older put their hand over his mouth and drug him down below everyone’s heads.

“Do you think the captain is lazy?” this time Shikamura, shooting a sharp look at the captain, who was slouched with a very bored expression on his face.

 Iruka laughed, “ _yes_.” Kakashi looked annoyed more than lazy, flipping his hair out of his face and not bothering to look at either Iruka or Shikamaru, but rather at some insignificant spot of dirt on his hand.

 Which meant it was Anko’s turn, all eyes turned to her. She practically drooled with excitement, hands rubbing together, teeth showing. Something deep within Iruka screamed at him that this was a trap and that he should just run now while he stood a chance.

 Kakashi’s hand touched his back again, rooting Iruka into place.

 “Girls or boys?” Anko leaned forward, the fire reflecting in her eyes.

 “I’m sorry, what’s the question?” _Tap, tap_ , went Kakashi’s fingers on Iruka’s lower back. He found himself pushing back into them, pretending to rest up against the boat’s side but really, he just wanted to keep feeling those warm touches.

 “Do you like girls or boys?”

 “ _Oh_.”

 “Yes.”

 “I’ve never... seen either?” Which was not true, Iruka reminded himself, he had seen plenty of naked men at the bathhouses when he was a child, all soft and wrinkly and not at all interesting to look at. Once he saw a woman in a dirty photo an older kid brought to class one day when Iruka was 8. It had confused him, and he realized he didn’t quite like boobs the same way his classmates did. Neither had done anything for him, not in the same way Kakashi had.

 _Nothing_ made him feel like Kakashi’s face did.

Anko took this as an opportunity to strip, tugging at her shirt to lift it higher when she found Ibiki’s arm wrapping around her and pulling her back down. “No one wants to see your tits, Anko,” cried Genma, “for the love of fucking gods I will throw your swords over the side of the boat if you take that off again!”

 So Anko didn’t, settling back down into Ibiki’s lap, pouting.

“Is this why no one wanted you to ask a question?” Iruka deflected, looking for someone to help him with an escape.

None came. Kakashi’s fingers felt like hot pokers on his back; he was waiting to hear the answer as well.

 “Neither, then?” Iruka offered, lifting his shoulders up in a half-shrug, unsure of what else he could really say. Did he offer that the only person he’s found remotely attracted, in all the few weeks he’s even been around people, that it would be their surly captain, all of him, from his decidedly nice looking feet to the unkempt mop of silver he called his hair? Or did he lie and point to the pretty girl with the pink hair next to him, to throw people off? Even though there wasn’t much about her form, or any of the women’s forms on board, that could even remotely dredge up any hint of desire from the depths of his soul like the captain could? No, one was too private, the other too hurtful. Better to say it like it was, which was neither, because only one person wasn’t a sexual identity to claim.

 That wasn’t the response anyone had expected, judging by the shocked looks on everyone’s face. Anko shook her head, “I guess that makes sense, hmm,” she looked at Ibiki, who only sighed and shook his own head.

“Boys, probably,” Iruka squeaked so quietly that if anyone had been speaking they wouldn’t have heard. No one was speaking, everyone heard it, the fingers on his back stilling for only a breath before he felt them moving again with a little more pressure, a little more reassurance. Iruka wanted to melt into those fingers, be touched all over by them. He felt fuzzy with the strange thing that was coming to define itself as desire.

Both Iruka and Kakashi pretended to not notice everyone’s mouths turned up into diabolical grins.

 

Guy broke the quiet by loudly letting everyone know that it was time for the midnight watch and everyone else should be in bed. Pirates grumbled like children, blankets were pulled up. Iruka watched was everyone retreated down the stairs below, leaving him, Kakashi, and nine tiny demons.

 Eight tiny demons.

 No, seven. Six. Five? Iruka watched as they all vanished with the crew to the hold, wondering just what they were doing.

 Only Chōmei stayed behind, clicking and buzzing to himself, touching Iruka with one of his tails. “Chōmei will make you lucky,” he chirped and clicked then scurried off to join the rest.

 “Oh,” was all Iruka could say.

 “I’m sorry,” he heard Kakashi whisper into the wind. The fingers didn’t move, so Iruka didn’t move. “They’re a lot.”

 “No, they’re just fine, their curiosity makes perfect sense. I have a list of things I still want to know about too...” Iruka peered over his shoulder, catching the captain’s nostrils flaring, a rapid blink. “Not, you know, _those_ kinds of things.”

 “Oh.”

 “And some of those kinds of things.”

 “ _Oh_ ,” Kakashi’s whole body breathed the word out, one long rush of a sigh and something more just beyond Iruka’s reach.

 “Oh, _yes_ ,” he retorted, “I’ve got a lot of those questions too.”

 “Why Iruka, have you been drinking this terrible, terrible water we call wine?”

 “Not at all, _captain._ ”

There it was, the heavy hint of _more_ in his voice again. Kakashi withdrew his touch, steeled himself up. A smile covered his nervousness. “I’d like to see if I could answer some of those questions for you.”

“That was my hope.”

Even the wind was quiet as Iruka stared down at the captain, wondering just where his life had gone these last few weeks and where it was heading now. He might as well be a teenager again, with how unsure he felt about everything, anything. Full of weird feelings and amazing sensations, brain caught up in the early stages of what, presumably, must be what love felt like.

Iruka could only guess, but he had a good idea that he may not be wrong.

Sometimes the feeling he gets in his chest when Kakashi looks at him felt eerily similar to how he remembered his mother looking at him. Iruka would feel his chest explode out in a burst of radiating fire, wrap around him with love and tenderness, pulling him into it’s warm embrace to hold him fast.

Sometimes the feeling isn’t in his chest, and those are the ones that drive Iurka a little mad, frustrated by his body betraying him when he saw the captain do something so basic, like _bend over_. Those feelings felt carnal, instinctive, predatory. His mouth would water and Iruka would find he needed to go walk somewhere far away, quickly, before anyone else would see the obvious truth he would try to hide.

Lost in thought, Iruka startled suddenly when Kakashi’s hand appeared in front of his nose to assist him in getting to his feet. He scoffed, pushing the hand away. “I’m not a _princess_ ,” he snarked, hoisting himself to his feet, feeling the wind kick up around them, around _him_ when he realized the captain was unabashedly looking him over, visible eye lingering far too long on Iruka’s chest.

Iruka blushed, arms crossed to protect himself, wind picking up speed and whipping the captain’s face.

Neither of them noticed the boy in the crow’s next at the very back of the ship, his pale face peeking just over the edge to watch the interaction below. He had the night watch, he always had the night watch. This evening he had been tasked with a special mission and was quickly jotting down notes.

He wrote that the captain and the islander stayed out a little longer.

Neither of them moved, except for the wind.

The wind seemed to follow them, and if he wasn’t as unique as the others, he would have thought that weird. Pieces of conversation drifted up from the deck below.

He heard the captain ask why the native never wore shirts. Apparently the fox had eaten one.

The native said something else that made both the boy and the captain blush. He ducked his head down to write it down in the journal he always kept handy.

 Their laughter seemed too friendly, too intimate to his ears. He made note of that as well.

“Sai,” whispered his companion, commanding his attention when she reached her hand up to tug on the loose sleeve that hung from Sai’s arm where it had been dangling over her, tickling her nose. Ino’s head was pillowed on his thigh, blonde hair tucked around her shoulder in a perfectly done braid (if Sai did say so himself), looking as beautiful under the moonlight’s glow as she did covered in the gore of their enemies. “Stop being creepy.”

 Sai sighed, peeking back over the ledge of the nest, watching the native and captain disappear to his quarters, standing awfully too close to each other than strangers should be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next three (four?) chapters may be slow, apologies in advance. <3


	7. Chomei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, a kiss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently i posted part six twice >_> i couldn't figure out for the life of me why the chapter numbers weren't adding up. that's been fixed now. eesh.

Iruka found Kakashi hidden in the crow’s nest again, just as he had found him every day for the last week and a half. Surely a captain in command of such a ship would constantly feel the need to be engaged, and yet.

“You are, by far, the laziest pirate I’ve ever heard of,” Iruka threw the insult with a laugh, climbing over the lip of the platform and settling in across from Kakashi.

Kakashi blushed and tucked his book under him. “I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about.”

The actions of hiding the book did not go unnoticed.. Iruka reached over, hands digging under the other, who sat in stunned silence as his book was drug out from underneath him.

After reading the cover, and flipping through it, Iruka threw the book back at Kakashi with a look of disgust. “Did you name your ship... after some dirty books?”

Kakashi smiled. “Yes.”

“You are _definitely_ the worst pirate I’ve ever heard of, and I’ve only ever heard of one pirate.”

“But you _have_ heard of a pirate.”

“A completely terrible pirate who’s ship doesn’t even have cannons! How can you have a pirate ship without pirate things?”

“Are cannons pirate things?”

“I-I think so?” Iruka was stumped, for all he had known as a child, pirate ships were full of bad people, weapons, cannons. This ship was an antithesis of what a characteristic pirate ship should have. Like he found during the first few days, there was nothing more dangerous aboard this boat besides one room of weapons in the hold, and they hadn’t even been that dangerous looking. Knives of all sizes and weights, swords that looked like they carried stories from other lands. He found the wooden weapons behind a large stack of scrolls that were haphazardly tossed into another room.

Across from him Kakashi shrugged, hiding behind his book again. Time moved slowly, the flick of a page made Iruka’s eye twitch.

“Why’s there a room of swords?” he asked, knocking his knee into Kakashi’s thigh.

“What swords?” said the man behind the book.

“The room of swords in the hull on your ship.”

“Ah, you found the armory.”

Confusion crossed Iruka’s face. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

Slowly the book was lowered down. Kakashi locked eyes with Iruka, narrowing slightly. Panic shot through Iruka’s veins. No one had stopped him when he went to look around, and no one had seemed to care if they saw him walking back from that area. The doors hadn’t been locked, which was a universal sign that he could go in. If it was a protected room, then they should have had a ‘keep out’ sign.

“Yes.” The book went back up.

Left eye twitching, Iruka reached back out for the book. Fingers closed over the top, gripping it tightly, and _yanked_.

A ten second scuffle broke out, limbs flailing and smacking at each other until Iruka emerged victorious, trash novel secured in his hand. Before Kakashi could make a grab, Iruka tucked the book into the back waistband of his trousers and sat down. He smiled wide, watching a beaten captain settle back down with a huff, slender arms crossed, hair mussed more from the tussle than from the hurricane breeze that had swiftly kicked up and died back down.

“Why do you have a room of swords?” Iruka asked again, eyebrows raised.

The captain tilted his head to the side, taking in Iruka and the slap of air that he had felt hit his body. “Question for a question?” he asked. When the approval came in a head nod, Kakashi unfolded his arms from his chest, hands dropping into his lap. “Remember when I told you we’re the good kind of pirates?” Iruka nodded again, recalling the conversation easily. “Well, in order to keep that image going, we don’t have your usual pirate ship fixtures. No skulls, no crossbones, no grog. No cannons, no pillaging, no killing if it can be helped. It’s our Pirate Way.”

This was all stuff Iruka knew by now. Simple facts but not an actual cause or reason _why_ that was how they chose to operate. “Tch, you’ve already told me that. You can’t be that dangerous with just a sword, right?”

Kakashi shrugged, twisting his face up into an overdramatic smile, eyes turned up to crescents. “We’re plenty frightening when we need to be. Don’t worry, I'll keep you safe.”

Iruka opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Had the captain said...? And if he had, then that had been a singular use of ‘I’ and didn’t carry the weight of a royal ‘we’ that a captain should be using when referring to his crew. No, he had said ‘I’ll’ which meant the captain. Kakashi would be the one to protect Iruka, should something befall him. A feeling of hope blossomed in Iruka’s chest, taking comfort in that one little slip up of the tongue. He felt a blush rise to his nose and rubbed absently at his scar. “Well, _captain_ , if we’re ever in any sort of trouble then I’ll expect you to dash to my rescue.”

It was the captain’s turn to blush. He waved a hand at Iruka to end the conversation, not wanting to fall down that road that would only, inevitably, end with both of them red from embarrassment. (He _hoped_ it would end with them red faced from something else.)

“Your turn.” Iruka’s words broke Kakashi from where his thoughts had been taking him.

“Can I have my book back?”

“Is that really your question?”

“Yes.”

“...All right.” Perplexed, because of all the questions out there, Iruka had not expected to be asked that something so innocuous. He tilted forward a bit until he wasn’t sitting on Kakashi’s book anymore and handed it back over. Kakashi reached out to take it just as Iruka pulled the book back to his chest. “Read it to me?” he asked, hopeful. He knew how to read, Iruka just wanted to find a way to get more time to bask in the captain’s attention.

Kakashi turned a shade of vermillion that reminded Iruka of the red flowers that grew outside the home he had shared with his parents. Fire had torn that home down.

“...I can do that,” the captain nodded his acceptance, taking the book back when it was offered and cracked it back open to the first page. “Ah, _page one_...”

  
  
  


On every day thereafter, Iruka would wake up with the beasts, enjoy a lazy breakfast of whatever fish they had Gyuki or Isobu catch with cinnamon tea, then dispatch himself to the mizzenmast to sit with Kakashi to listen to him read, laughing when he switched voices to emmulate the female antagonist or go overly masculine when needed.

Eventually they both stopped blushing when Kakashi read aloud the naughtier parts.

Those days the wind blew stronger, pushing the ship towards where Genbu was. Genbu, Iruka found out from Shikamaru one day, was actually a floating island on the back of a turtle. Isobu became excited at that. He had been friends with a floating island turtle eons ago, when the Land of Water had held him captive. Genbu, if this was indeed the same Genbu, would be a great place for the beasts to live.

The uptake in wind did not go unnoticed by the crew; a warm and steady breeze picked up when Iruka sat with Kakashi. They discussed it in the holds with each other, gathering a handful of sailors and all the beasts together. Asuma took center, holding court. He sat with his arms folded across the wide span of his chest, glowering at the collection of beasts who dodged questions until he decided he had had enough.

“We need to know what he is.” A simple request, coming from Asuma, dark eyes going from beast to beast until he landed on Saiken. Saiken had developed a rough friendship with the man, and he relied upon that at this moment to help draw information out of the wiggly one. Asuma crooked an eyebrow and a silence fell upon the room as all eyes turned to Saiken.

“Iruka is a wind _affinity_ ,” Saiken wobbled, “he doesn’t really know anything else. We were always told to never tell our caretakers about chakra! We were following orders!” The group parted as Saiken pushed through them and hoisted himself up onto the table everyone had been clustered around. “Only Shukaku,” Saiken instinctively winced as, from a corner came the shouts of Shukaku announcing who he was. “I said, _only_ Shukaku knows the wind and Shukaku teaches no one.”

From his spot Shukaku nodded his agreement. “No one!”

Dipping his head, Kokuō heaved a sigh. “There’s more. The island is free of most chakra, that’s how it’s keep off the maps, except there’s a catch.” Kukou turned and softly nuzzled at Kiba as a thank you for helping him up. “The catch is us.”

From the shadows stepped Shikamaru, fingers stroking his chin, putting pieces of a puzzle together. “The myths were that the tailed beasts were pure chakra. Iruka was drawing it from you, wasn’t he?”

Nine heads throughout the room nodded in various locations.

“He has no idea this is happening, does he?”

Nine more heads shook.

“What a drag... I think I know how we can use this to our advantage and get to Genbu faster.”

A room full of sailors and nine demonic creatures all pulled in close to the first mate and listened intently as he laid out a plan.

  
  
  


A week had passed by the time their plan unfolded. They had agreed to leave Kakashi alone with Iruka, not bothering them if they could help it. As long as Iruka stayed up there with him, the wind filled their sails.

It was Anko who brought the plan to fruition one night. “Hey, Captain?” she asked, drawing Kakashi up from where he had not-so-subtly been looking at Iruka. “Have you shown our the special room?”

Kakashi turned red, ignoring the jeers from his crew. The room Anko mentioned was usually locked, or had items stacked in front of it, to bar people from entering, though that never worked and somehow the crew would constantly be caught in there with their hands down each other’s pants.

Iruka whipped his head down to the row to Kakashi, making the three people between them all lean backwards. “I want to see,” he demanded, excited that there was finally something new to explore on this floating tinder box. Iruka had thought he had gone through the place with a fine tooth comb, had climbed inside every small space to explore. He knew of only one door that was locked. He hadn’t had a chance to pick it yet.

“Yeah, captain, he _wants to see_ ,” Anko leered with an over exaggerated wink that, thank the gods, Iruka did not see. From Kakashi’s left came a light jab to his ribs. Ibiki (who could not believe he was dragged into this but his snake of a wife was too devious to ignore) was tasked with making a convincing argument. He spoke so low that only the captain could hear. “Do it or you’ll regret letting her on this ship.”

That was the only threat Kakashi needed. An unhappy, wild, misbehaving Anko would terrorize him constantly. He shot Anko a dangerous look as he got up from the bench and walked out, expecting Iruka to follow---and he did, though he shot Anko his own look, and it was more a mix of confusion and glee.

Chōmei followed Kakashi and Iruka down into the hold, only skittering back when he saw that they had gone where the group planned for them to be. The news was shared with the crew, who cheered and popped open some of the terrible wine.

While Iruka heard nothing, Kakashi’s ears twitched when the faint sounds of celebration reached his ears, realizing all his chances at being a silent and brooding captain, lovestruck over a bronzed prince of a man, had been made painfully apparent to his crew and they were determined to force him to act on it.

At the door to the so-called  ‘special room,’ deep in the ship’s belly, Iruka stopped to watch Kakashi flap his hands in weird patterns again before a click was heard and the door opened on it’s own. Iruka ducked his head to look in and came back up immediately.

“I don’t know what kind of room this is supposed to be, should be, but there are candles and blankets in there and,” he peeked again, “I think that’s a bottle of wine.”

“It,” Kakashi sighed, “is.” Another sigh. Iruka narrowed his eyes at the man but still stepped into the small space. There had been something similar to this design in one of the Icha Icha books Kakashi had recently read to him: a room that the princess had been placed into when her rescuer arrived and they had done very, very explicit deeds in, before being whisked off onto an actual, true, pirate ship.

“Kakashi, I may have been living on a literal island for half my life but this is, well, hrmm.” Iruka flopped down on the pile of blankets, pulling one to wrap around himself. He watched Kakashi stand still in the doorway, shoulders pulled in. Iruka gestured for him to come over and, after Kakashi finally settled down next to him, scooted so Iruka could very, very carefully, boldly, rest his head on Kakashi’s shoulder.

Neither breathed for a moment. Outside the ship a whale bellowed, or Shukaku was finally thrown overboard. It made Iruka smile and he laughed, thinking that at this moment so much life was swimming around them, oblivious to the people inside. Iruka’s laugh was infectious, they howled together until they both gasped for air.

Iruka, for the absurdity of the situation. Kakashi, for how absurd his crew was and how oblivious he thought they were.

(The demons told Iruka the tales of when they lived inside other humans who had taken partners to bed. Those stories had always been awkward to listen to, and it never helped that the beasts only liked telling the _bad_ stories. The rest he learned from Kakashi’s terrible books over the last week and, well, those were only slightly better if not full of more things like consent. So he waited, unintentionally playing the kidnapped princess, while his rescuer watched him.)

“Iruka... Iruka, come here,” Kakashi broke their silence, his voice heavy with a feeling Iruka couldn’t quite place. The captain wrapped an arm around Iruka’s waist and lifted him into his lap, chuckling at Iruka as he squeaked his surprise.

Iruka’s heart danced to a tango and he worried Kakashi could feel it beating through his skin. Iruka willed his heart to slow, his breath to even out. It didn’t.

“I think your crew is trying to tell you something,” Iruka found himself whispering once he felt okay enough to speak. His back pressed against Kakashi’s chest as he was held tightly in place; arms wrapped around his chest and waist, holding fast. Kakashi was warm to the touch, not full of wild electricity like sometimes he could be. He was a muted color, something softer under Iruka’s hands. Pliable yet not. Iruka leaned his head back, feeling the tickle of breath on his cheek as Kakashi did something that sounded like a snort.

“I suspect you’re right,” Kakashi was slow to admit, “We shouldn’t let this get to their heads. Their egos will rocket.” The plan had worked, they had conspired against their captain. Kakashi would threaten them for planning against them, a mutiny in it’s own right, if he didn’t already know that they wouldn’t listen (if they did, he would be out an entire crew, so it was in his best interest to let them scheme and conspire if it meant outcomes like this.)

(This being the closest they had been, not counting the tiny space of the crow’s nest where you were almost forced onto the other’s lap.)

Lips touched the bareness of Iruka’s shoulder. Back was the zing of sharp electric blues. Iruka shivered as he felt Kakashi’s arms tighten around him. He smiled, reaching back to scrub a hand through those silver tresses. “You should probably lock the door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pending real life disasters, the next one should be out soon. I hope. real life disasters intervened these last few weeks and sucked out the creativity and drive i had been nurturing until they were just a mushy blob of shitty ideas. which is great, if you like absolute shit. sorry arryagraceling! i will ask for your beta-ing skills once this story has ended.


End file.
